


That's Not Your Bag

by eatjamfast



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Anniversary, Domestic Fluff, Explicit Sexual Content, First Dates, Kissing, M/M, Right?, SO MUCH FLUFF, Sex Toys, Sharing a Bed, literally no plot, soo i guess this means they're technically BOTH hot dads, they kissed!, wrong luggage AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-20
Updated: 2014-09-14
Packaged: 2018-01-20 04:22:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1496494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eatjamfast/pseuds/eatjamfast
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A mistake at the airport leads to an unexpected date</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> quick note 25/11/14 - I have a tumblr now! :^) eatjamfast.tumblr.com

 

Jack stumbled out of the plane, feeling stiff and generally all around shitty.

Usually, he loved to fly. He delighted in watching the clouds skim the wings of the plane, he loved it when the plane started climbing towards the sky and he felt like his stomach had been left behind.

But today was a completely different story. The air in the cabin had been stifling, the woman who was sitting next to him had a child that wouldn’t stop screeching – and even if Jack loved and worked with children there was nothing he could stand less than a snotty, shrieking two year old – and to top it all off, someone sitting behind him vomited as the plane set off and the nauseating stench hung in the air for the entire journey. Jack had cracked a joke to the air hostess about opening a window to let some fresh air in and the look she gave him was positively loathsome.

Heaving a sigh, he trudged towards the luggage bay, desperate to get out of the stuffy airport once and for all. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the woman and her child. The little boy had stopped screaming, but still had the same pissy look on his face. Jack rolled his eyes; he’d had several lifetimes’ worth of that face since he’d started his job in the local primary school. Not that he minded, because the giggles and fun made up for it.

When he reached the luggage area, he waited patiently by one of the whirring strips, keeping a lazy eye on the suitcases which drifted past him. Red, pink, green, black, red, pink, green, black; it seemed to go on forever. There was not a blue case in sight and after five minutes Jack started to feel on edge. Had someone knicked off with his bag? Surely not. That couldn’t happen.

By the time ten minutes had ticked by, he was starting to feel extremely concerned and by fifteen, he knew something was up. Biting his lip, he made his way to the security guard who stood sentinel by the double doors.

“Excuse me,” Jack called out to him with a wave, and the hulking man stomped over purposefully. He looked down at Jack expectantly and Jack cleared his throat. “I think my case has been taken by mistake.”

“Right,” the guard grunted, nodding. “What does it look like and we’ll have a quick rummage around for it first.”

Taking Jack’s elbow in a firm grip, the guard frog-marched him so they would wait right by the little baggage entrance.

Looking up at him, Jack explained, “it’s dark blue, and is about this big,” he made a show with his hands, “and it’s got a white ribbon on the handle.”

Minutes ticked by and it was seeming more and more likely that Jack’s suitcase wasn’t going to show up. His eyelids felt heavy and he swayed a little where he stood, tired and barely coherent as the guard made a few fleeting attempts at small talk.

“Is that it?” The guard’s voice pulled Jack back into the moment and his eyes zoned in on where the security guard’s fat finger was pointing. A medium sized blue case was rolling away from them, before it could disappear from their view, Jack caught the silver flash of its logo and sighed with relief.

“Yep, that’s it.” He nodded, and smiled gratefully as the guard practically swatted people out of his way to grab the suitcase. He handed it to Jack with a beatific grin, and Jack was oddly touched at how devoted the guy was to his job. “Thanks, man, I ‘preciate it,” Jack managed around an exhausted yawn.

“All in a day’s work,” the guard said before waving as he walked away.

Jack pulled out the cool metal handle and wheeled the case away from the bustling luggage bay, stifling a moan of bliss as he made it out of the double doors and into the icy night air.

For all that he loved visiting his parents, it sometimes felt like it wasn’t worth the journey.

Blinking his eyes forcefully, Jack pulled his suitcase behind him, thinking absently that it felt a lot heavier than it did before, and trudged towards his car which was in the long-term stay parking lot. He reached into his back pocket to fish out his car keys, pressing the unlock button until he saw a car flashing away near the back of the car park.

After tossing his luggage carelessly into the boot, he slid into the front seat; smiling as he sank into the familiar seats, the clean, minty scent of his air freshener washing over him as he shoved his keys into the ignition. In recent years, Jack had come to the realisation that his parent’s house was no longer 'home' to him. He’d moved into his own little house on the outskirts of town when he landed the job at Burgess Primary School, bought his own car, and he had even started paying off his student loans now he had a steady income.

He kept his eyes trained on the road as he drove home, using thoughts of a promising hot bath and frozen pizza, then bed to keep himself awake.

The forty five minute drive back home wasn't as bad as he thought it was going to be, what with the all the snow and ice and reckless driving with it being New Year’s Eve.

Pulling into his driveway, he practically flung himself through the front door, bag in hand. His house was cold, but he didn’t really mind that a great deal. He had come to terms with the fact central heating was unnecessarily expensive and it was something that, even in winter, he could live quite happily without.

Dumping his suitcase in the living room, he dragged himself upstairs, dialling his mother’s home phone as he went.

“ _Hello?_ ”

“Hey, Mum, it’s me.”

“ _Jackie! You got home safe, then?_ ”

“Yes, yes, no accidents, no problems at all. Though there was a moment at the airport where I thought I might not have my share of fruitcake anymore.” Jack said drly, sitting on the side of the bathtub as he turned the taps.

“ _Oh, well, that’s good. I_ know _how much you love my fruitcake, dear._ ” Jack rolled his eyes, feeling a little guilty. He didn’t have it in him to tell his mother how much he despised the old family recipe.

“Okay, Ma. Well I was just calling to let you know everything is fine.” He said, hoping she’d take the hint and not keep him on the phone for hours.

“ _Alrighty, dear, stay safe now. Love you._ ”

“Love you too, Ma, see you later.”

“ _Bye!_ ”

The line went dead and Jack placed the phone down carefully on the sinkside. He rubbed a weary hand over his face before yanking his t-shirt off and dumping it on the bathroom floor. He left the bath running steadily to go pour himself a glass of water downstairs.

Jack rolled his shoulders, feeling himself relax as he settled back in to his home.

After a long, well-deserved soak in the bath, Jack wrapped a towel around his waist,  flung another around his neck and sauntered down into the kitchen, smacking his lips together at the enticing idea of an oven pizza.

It didn’t take much to convince himself that it was a brilliant idea to eat a 10 inch margarita at one o’ clock in the morning, and he thanked every god out there that he didn’t need to be at work for another week and a half.

Slipping into a pair of sweat pants when he hair was finally dry, Jack slunk back into the kitchen and sat in front of the oven, laughing at himself for acting so childish. Peering through the tinted glass, Jack grinned when he saw it had finally crisped off enough for him to feel safe eating it – there had been an unorthodox amount of occasions where Jack had given himself food poisoning from not waiting for his food to be cooked properly so he had taken to just burning it so he didn’t have to worry as much.

Pizza plated up, Jack sank back into his pillows and got comfortable. Just as he was getting into the (surprisingly not cheesy) romcom on Netflix, someone knocked on his door.

Frowning, Jack hesitated before he stood up and glanced at the clock. It was unusual for someone to knock on his door so late and Jack wondered if he had imagined it. Until three more heavy, precise knocks were rapped with the knocker.

Scrambling to his feet and tossing his empty plate aside, he stumbled to the door, peeking through the peephole before he opened it.

The man outside the door was tall. Really tall. His face was tired, but underneath the fatigue Jack could tell he was stunningy handsome and embarrassingly on the mark for the type of guy Jack would be interested in. He looked at Jack expectantly, and all Jack could do was marvel over his eyes which were an intriguing shade of hazel which almost looked golden in the dim light of Jack’s hallway.

Blinking a few times, Jack realised he should probably say something.

“Um, can I help you?” He managed to get out.

“Yes,” the man said smoothly, but all Jack could think was, _holy shit he’s British._ “I know this may seem out of the blue, and I’m really sorry if I’ve woken you up – ”

“No, no, I was awake.” Jack said breathlessly with what he hoped was _not_ a completely dorky smile. 

“Oh, good. Well, anyway, I’m afraid I must have taken your suitcase home by mistake.” He looked sheepish and it took Jack a moment to process what he had just said.

“Oh.” Jack frowned, “but I’ve got my suitcase here…”

The man’s brow furrowed, and he looked down at the luggage he had beside him which Jack only just realised was there.

“But that's my suitcase, too…” Jack said, feeling confused. He looked up at the man apologetically, “would you mind waiting here for a second?”

“Not at all.”

“I’ll be right back,” said Jack before he jogged back into the living room to check his case and sure enough, when he looked at the label, it didn’t read “Jack Frost”, but “K. Pitchiner”. He breathed out in surprise and lugged the suitcase back to the front door.

“Yeah, turns out this isn’t my case, is it yours by any chance?”

The man bent down, reaching out for the tag and smiled in relief when he saw the name. “Yes, this is mine. Thank God, I thought I was going to have to look all over the state for it!”

“Well, now you don't, and they pretty much look exactly the same. I was too tired to look for the ribbon,” Jack admitted.

“I should have noticed the ribbon in the first place,” he shrugged. “And, look, I’m sorry for turning up so late, or early as it were. But I thought you might want your belongings back sooner rather than later.”

“Yeah, probably for the best. And it’s seriously cool, I was awake.”

“Are you sure?” The man hesitated, “I could, ah, maybe take you out for coffee to make up for it?”

“Are you serious?” Jack blurted and the man appeared embarrassed for a moment before Jack backtracked. “No, no, not in a bad way. Just. Yeah. Um, sure. I’d love coffee. I mean, to go and get coffee. With you.” He was blushing furiously by the end of his ramble and the man chucked, which only helped make Jack flare up further.

“Ah, I’m Kozmotis by the way. But Pitch is what everyone else calls me.” Pitch stuck his hand out and Jack took it, revelling in his strong, warm grip.

 _I’m gonna have it_ so _bad,_ Jack groaned mentally.

“I’m Jack. But I guess you already knew that,” Jack said, laughing nervously.

Pitch nodded, still smiling. They both stood there for a couple more minutes, grinning like idiots before Jack realised it wasn’t entirely normal to have a stranger stand on your doorstep at two in the morning for a chat. So he cleared his throat, brows raised.

“Tomorrow, then?” He asked. “For the, uh, coffee, I mean.”

“Sure,” Pitch nodded again. “Do you want to meet me or should I pick you up?”

“How about I give you my number and we’ll meet at Aster’s shop at one?” Jack said, feeling more than a little sneaky dropping his number like that.

“Aster’s shop?” Pitch echoed, bemused.

“Oh, sorry, in the town centre, ‘Aster’s Coffee Shop’.” Jack explained, leaning over to the side so he could jot down his number on the hallway table on a sticky note. “This,” he handed the yellow slip to Pitch, “is my number.”

“Thank you.” Pitch reached forward so he could take his case, “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow, then?”

“Tomorrow.” Jack promised. He waved Pitch off and didn’t close his door until the red glow of his headlights disappeared down the street.

Swinging the door shut behind him, Jack shook his head at the ridiculousness of the situation. _Thing like this just don’t happen in real life,_ he thought to himself. But, nonetheless, he wasn’t about to turn down a date when they were so few and far between in days of late.

Jack bit his lip, smiling as he made his way upstairs, happy that he finally had something to look forward to in his life besides his job.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There was more dialogue than I’m used to writing in this chapter… I’m not entirely pleased with it but I figured I should try and get something up because exams start real soon and I won’t have as much time for writing! I hope you enjoy!

“Stop tapping your foot like that. You’re even making _me_ nervous.” Aster grumbled from behind the counter.

It was noon and Jack was an hour early for the ‘sorry I accidentally took your luggage home with me’ coffee date with Pitch. He knew it wasn’t a date. But it was so easy to think of it that way. _Besides_ , he told himself sternly, _you talked for little over five minutes before he offered to buy you a drink, for all you know he could be an axe murderer._

“Jack.” Aster ground out. “Stop tapping your bloody foot.”

“Sorry.” Jack said, not sounding very sorry at all.

“Are you gonna order anything or not?”

“Muffin.”

“What?”

“I’m going to buy a chocolate muffin,” Jack declared jovially, and he placed a dollar down on the counter. Aster made a gruff sound, picking up the money and lobbing one of the bun’s at Jack, who was thankful for having quick reflexes or that throw could have quite possibly knocked him out cold. Aster didn’t know his own strength sometimes.

He took one of the seats at the counter and took a bite out of the muffin. Aster continued to scrub down the work surfaces, completely ignoring Jack. Feeling perturbed, Jack tried to strike up a conversation, “So why is it so empty here today?”

“Tuesday morning.”

“Is that supposed to mean something to me?”

“Tuesday morning after New Year’s Eve,” Aster clarified and Jack made an understanding ‘oooh’ noise in response, then went back to his muffin.

They fell into silence, but Jack was used to the silence. He had been good friends with Aster since they were young and it was a pleasant surprise to find him to have opened up a coffee shop in the town where Jack was going to work and they quickly set to rebuilding their somewhat lost friendship.

Scarfing down the last of his bun, Jack leaned back in the chair, patting his stomach appreciatively. “That was awesome.”

“I know, mate. I made it.”

“Wow, Aster, no need to be so modest.” Jack chuckled, shaking his head.

“So where did you meet this guy, then?” Aster asked abruptly and Jack looked up in surprise, brows raised sceptically.

“Uh, well, funny story,” Jack said, laughing nervously. “At my house.”

“I don’t follow.”

“He dropped off my suitcase. We’d taken each other’s home by mistake and then he offered to take me out, and, well, you know how it goes.” Aster was looking at him like he’d grown a second head, before he burst out laughing. Jack stared at him, incredulous, he bit back on a snarky comment. “ _What_? What’s so funny?”

“Are you kidding me?” Aster gasped, between stray chuckles. He seemed to have composed himself but his tan face was flushed from his outburst, his green eyes glittering with amusement. Jack shook his head, resisting the urge to smile along with his friend.

“That shit only happens in movies. What the Hell, Jack!”

Jack grinned wickedly, “I know.” But a sudden thought drifted into his mind slyly, wiping the smile off of his face. “Seriously, though, I don’t even know if this is a ‘date’, per se. He might have actually felt bad and wanted to buy me coffee to make up for it.”

“I’m not sure what the protocol is for when something like that happens, but I’m fairly certain it’s not asking the other person out for coffee.” Aster said, clearly amused.

“Ugh,” Jack groaned, “whatever. I just – ”

“Oi, Jack, is that him?”

“What?” Jack said dumbly, turning around. And, sure enough, standing in the doorway, was Pitch. Jack couldn’t stifle the surprised laugh which escaped him and Pitch’s eyes snapped to his, and he lifted his arm in a wave.

Hopping off of his stool, Jack met him halfway, grinning.

“You’re early.”

“So are you,” Pitch said, looking quite pleased with himself. “I hope you don’t mind.”  

“No, no, it’s great. Better than waiting an hour. Not that I was waiting, or anything.” Jack added lamely, feeling like a complete idiot. Pitch chucked.

“Well I’m glad you weren’t waiting then,” he said smoothly. “Coffee, then?”

“Sure.” Jack nodded, gesturing to a table in the far corner. “Over there?”

“Okay.”

Coffee with Pitch went surprisingly well. Aside from the moments when Jack’s ability to speak like a rational human being disappeared and all he could do was blush and stumble over words, the conversation was flowing and it turned out they had similar interests. Pitch was thirty one and, like Jack, a teacher, although he taught at high school level; but it was amusing to compare how similar the mannerisms of their students were. He enjoyed reading and theatre, and Jack’s inability to act normally around him made another appearance when Pitch suggested they go see a play together sometime in the future.

Pitch also had a daughter who was six years old. He had seemed slightly worried Jack would take it the wrong way but his parenthood only spurred on Jack’s attraction further. _Good with kids, literate, kind and quite possibly one of the hottest guys I’ve ever met,_ Jack sighed in his mind. _Please, please_ , please _let there be a second date!_

He found himself wishing that it would never end, and fought off a crestfallen look when Pitch stood up and looked at Jack apologetically. “I should go.”

“Oh, really?” Jack said, trying to keep the disappointment out of his voice. “We could, ah, maybe do this again sometime?” He bit his lip, praying he wasn’t pushing his luck.

“Of course, that would be great.” Pitch smiled, a smudge of pink brightening up his cheeks. “Would you like to go for dinner sometime next week?”

Jack felt like all his birthdays had come at once and he nodded enthusiastically. “Sure! That would be awesome, I’d love to.”

“I shall give you a call soon, then.” Said Pitch, his lips twisting into a half-smile.

“Great, I’ll see you later then,” he said, once again breathless. He walked Pitch to the café door, explaining he had some business with the owner before he was going to leave and waved him off down the footpath. Once Pitch was out of sight, Jack spun on his heel and grinned widely at Aster, who was smirking as he processed a customer’s order.

Sauntering up the counter, Jack leaned on it, smiling at the customer as they made their way out of the café.

“I take it that went well,” said Aster and Jack’s excited laugh burst out of him before he could stop it.

“He’s asked me out for dinner,” whispered Jack, as though the fact were this huge secret that he had to treasure and keep close to his heart.

“Aaaaand, he’s pulled,” Aster snickered and Jack swatted him on the arm, glaring but he couldn’t stop the smile from creeping back onto his face.

“Anyway, just wanted to deliver the good news,” Jack said casually.

“I suppose now you’ve used me to be girly at you’re going to leave?”

“Of course.”

“See you later, then, lovebird.” Aster smirked, and Jack grinned at him before leaving.

*

It was two days before Jack’s phone rang with an unknown number. Jack was ashamed to admit that he took his phone everywhere with him, waiting and waiting for that one call.

Muting the TV, Jack pressed the answer button on his phone and held his breath as he waited for the voice he was expecting to hear.

“ _Hello? Jack?”_

“Hey,” Jack said lamely, his voice precariously high.

A pause. “ _How’re you?_ ”

“Oh, I’m fine. You?”

“ _So, so_.” Pitch replied, then cleared his throat. “ _I’m calling about that dinner_.”

“I guessed,” Jack laughed. “I hope you’re not bailing on me!”

“ _Of course not!”_ Pitch protested, “ _I was just wondering if you wanted to bring the date forward?_ ”

“Really? Yeah, that’s cool, fine by me. When were you thinking?” Jack’s heart was in his throat and a blush was steadily reddening his pale cheeks. _Oh my God you’re acting like a twelve year old girl!_ He chided himself, _Get it together! You’ve only met the guy twice!_

“ _Saturday?_ ” Pitch offered, then added hesitantly after a heartbeat, “ _or maybe tomorrow?_ ”

“Tomorrow!” Jack said quickly, barely letting Pitch finish talking. “Tomorrow is fine for me!” He tried not to sound too enthusiastic, because he did not want to come off as desperate. But when Pitch mirrored his excitement, Jack felt his fears dissipate.

“ _Great. Really great. Ah, I guess I will pick you up tomorrow, then?_ ”

_Pitch. Picking me  up. For a date. Wow this throws me back, I don’t think anyone has picked me up for dinner in about five years._

“Sure, that’s awesome.”

“ _I’ll make the reservation, then._ ”

Sensing that their phonecall was drawing to a close, Jack tried to rekindle the conversation. “What kind of food are we gonna have, then?”

“ _Hmm… I probably should have asked you that before!_ ” Pitch laughed, obviously feeling embarrassed for being ignorant but Jack didn’t care. “ _I was thinking maybe seafood?_ ” He paused again, thinking. “ _Oh! There is this pub a little out of town and they do amazing traditional British pub meals._ ”

Jack chuckled, “Trying to educate me on your country?”

“ _Damn, you got me._ ”

“But the pub seems nice,” Jack added quickly. “It’ll probably be a bit more casual than dinner at a restaurant.”

“ _Oh, thank God_ ,” Pitch exclaimed. Jack heard the rustle of fabric and bit down on a smile when he realised Pitch had sat down, settling in for their phone call. “ _I was wondering, if we went to a restaurant that is, if you’d expect me to wear a suit or something!_ ”

“Oh jeez,” Jack laughed. “But somehow I feel like you’re a suit kinda guy.”

“ _Not at all, quite the contrary. I’m a jumper and jeans man_.”

“Are you kidding me? I never would have pegged you for one!”

“ _And why is that?_ ” Pitch asked, sounding mock-offended.

“Okay, shoot me, I’m American and I like British stereotypes… so it could be a teeny tiny bit to do with the fact you’re British and a  man, so I just assumed you’d wear a suit.”

Pitch’s laugh was loud and slightly jarring, Jack had to hold the phone away from his ear so it didn’t deafen him. “ _Oh, wow, okay. Well, I guess I won’t hold it against you. You’re not the first person to think that and you certainly won’t be the last._ ”

They stayed on the phone for a good half hour, chatting about insignificant, meaningless things and Jack delighted in how easy it was to talk to Pitch, how effortlessly their conversation came. He felt strangely satisfied when Pitch explained that he had to pick up Seraphina, his daughter, so their phone call came to an end.

The line went dead and Jack sank back into the pillows, grinning stupidly to himself.

He hardly knew the man, but he found himself thinking that he could really see himself having a strong, long-lasting relationship with him. _Which is really dumb,_ Jack thought, _I can’t believe I’m getting this worked up over a guy I’ve only just met._

Even so, Jack couldn’t find it in himself to reprimand the school-boy crush which grew each time he thought about him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to be a little oneshot-y thing to pass the time with but I feel like this is going to escalate into an actual fic… oh no…  
> I’m punching myself at how far I’ve dragged these two away from their original characters. Pitch? Evil? Lolno how about let’s just make him the nicest guy in the world.  
> Comments are much appreciated! I'd love to see how I can improve :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I’m ashamed to admit that this chapter has been lying around half finished for a few weeks now! But now it’s done!

Jack had only just finished taming the bird’s nest that was his hair when he saw the glare of Pitch’s headlines shining through his window. He chewed on his bottom lip nervously, allowing himself another quick glance in the mirror so he could attempt to flatten his unruly mop of hair again before he left the house.

When Pitch knocked on his front door, Jack forced the butterflies in his stomach to settle. Taking a deep, steady breath, he opened the door with a smile on his face. He and Pitch were dressed in relatively similar clothing, both wearing jeans and a wooly jumper – only Jack had his shirt collar tucked out along his sweater’s neckline.

“Hi,” said Pitch, with a small smile. Jack pretended he didn’t see the once-over Pitch gave him, and took a step back.

“Hey,” he replied, “do you want to come in for a second? I need to find my wallet.”

Pitch looked quite taken aback, but nodded and stepped into the chilly hallway. He looked awkward, and stood with his arms flat against his body. Jack found that endearing, and wanted to tell him to make himself at home. But he really needed to find his wallet, which he had thrown onto the sofa late last night and it had subsequently disappeared from the face of the Earth.

Jack left Pitch standing, trying not to laugh at the way he looked scared to even breathe for the fear it might seem offensive. He rooted through the cushions on his sofa until his hand slapped against the leather of his wallet, he sighed with relief. Sliding it into his back pocket, he returned to Pitch in the hallway with an apologetic smile.

“Are you ready to go, then?” Pitch asked and Jack nodded, stepping in front of his date so he could open the front door and let the poor guy out.

They headed towards his car, and Jack didn’t even bother to hide the flush that hit his cheeks when Pitch opened to door for him. Pitch’s car was spacious, with plush leather seats and a relaxing, rich scent similar to Italian coffee washed over him as he settled into the passenger seat.

Pitch slid into the driver side with an elegance that Jack admired and envied at the same time.

“Nice ride.” Jack grinned as Pitch pulled out of his driveway.

“I aim to please.”

“No seriously, which school do you work at I might have to transfer because the perks seem way better.” Jack laughed shaking his head, wondering how the hell Pitch could afford that car on a teacher’s salary.

Pitch only chucked in response, keeping his eyes on the road.

Jack had expected the pair of them to fall into a compatible silence at that point as it seemed like there was nothing else to say, but Pitch didn’t seem interested in staying quiet, and struck up a new topic.

“So, what made you want to become a teacher in the first place?” Pitch asked curiously, looking a Jack out of the corner of his eye.

“My little sister.” Jack smiled, “I was quite a bit older than her so I kinda got used to looking after her and the other little kids who lived nearby. Old habits die hard, I guess.” He added with a sheepish smile. “And what about you? What on Earth would make you want to hang out with a bunch of teenagers every day?” Jack demanded playfully.

Pitch cocked an eyebrow and his lips twitched as they fought against the smile that wanted to play across them. “I don’t actually know, in all honesty.” It sounded like he wanted to say more, but he restrained himself and Jack felt intrigued.

“Oh?” Jack prompted, looking at him interestedly.

“I originally wanted to be a lecturer,” explained Pitch. “But in all honesty,” he gave a short, sudden embarrassed laugh, “I was too tired of staying in education so I just switched to the shorter course, which led to becoming a maths teacher.”

Jack grinned, but nodded in sympathy nonetheless. “Kids aren’t too bad, though. Although, high school kids must be a lot different than toddlers.”

“They are!” Pitch said, looking somewhat forlorn, “My God, they are rowdy! You wouldn’t believe some of the things I hear from them.” He glanced over at Jack, humour shining in his eyes.

“I don't wanna know!” Jack laughed, “I’m too squeamish to hear about what teenagers get up to these days – ignorance is _absolutely_ bliss!”

“You have _no_ idea,” Pitch groaned.

Shifting in his seat so he could face Pitch and engage in their conversation better, he raised his brows. “Why not become a primary school teacher? Your daughter is young, right? I would have thought that would have been instigation to do that instead.”

Pitch seemed slightly surprised by Jack’s query, but he just shook his head. “Maths. I always knew I was going to teach it at a higher level, I guess teaching younger children just wasn’t for me.”

It was then that they lapsed into a thoughtful quiet and Jack watched the world spin past his window as Pitch drove. Jack noticed that he was pretty on point with his driving, and then realised that he was probably road-conscious seeing as his daughter was only little.

“So what is this place called, anyway?” Jack asked after a while.

“The Blackthorn Inn,” Pitch replied. “It’s the only place in America so far which actually sells British beer and serves decent British meals,” he sniffed, and then winked when he realised Jack wasn’t entirely with it on his sarcasm. Jack felt his cheeks flush and he laughed, biting his lip.

It took another five minutes for them to roll into the pub’s car park and Jack was somewhat pleased to see that it was relatively empty – hopefully meaning they’d get a little privacy.

Pitch pulled into one of the empty spots and hopped out the car, speed-walking to the other side so he could open Jack’s door before he had a chance to do it himself.

The pub was everything Jack had expected it to be: homey and cosy. The décor was all warm reds and chocolate brows with the odd moss-green item thrown in to break up the similar colour scheme. The walls were laden with brass horse memorabilia and tankards were lined up, row after row, on top of all the windowsills and spare shelves. It was pleasantly scruffy and Jack instantly loved the place – Pitch had good taste.

“This is adorable,” Jack laughed as he slid into one of the spare tables next to the roaring hearth.

“I thought you might like it,” Pitch grinned. “Did you want a pint? Or juice?”

“Cider,” Jack replied, rubbing his hands together to take the bite off the chill which made them stiff. The fire helped, and so did the embarrassingly endless blush which seemed to plague him whenever Pitch was around.

“I’ll be back in a second, then.”

Jack watched Pitch saunter off to the bar and smiled faintly, a fuzzy feeling making his stomach feel weak. _I’ve got it_ so _bad._

He didn’t even bother to wipe the dopey grin off of his face as Pitch came ambling back from the bar with a couple of pints clutched in his hands, the contents sloshing precariously close to the top of the glasses. With a quick grin, he placed Jack’s drink down carefully on the placemat and sat down.

“Thanks,” Jack said, sipping at the fruity beverage. “I’ll buy the next round.”

“Not at all.” Pitch said smoothly, “ _I’m_ the one taking _you_ out to dinner, I’ll be paying.”

“But – ”

“Ah!” Pitch cried out loudly, shaking his head with a grin. “Nope! Non-negotiable!”

“Fine then,” Jack said, seizing the opportunity to check how Pitch was feeling about everything, “I’ll pay for you the next time we go out.”

Pitch paused for the briefest of seconds as he registered what Jack had just said, then smiled. “Sure, I’m fine with that.”

Jack had to take another gulp of his drink to hide his stupidly wide grin.

The conversation flowed freely between them, and Jack felt the most comfortable he had ever felt on a ‘proper’ first date in a while. And when the time came to order food, Pitch told him stories about the food on the menu and how crazy British people went over some of it and Jack had laughed and mulled over his choices before opting for the fish and chips which, Pitch had warned, was going to be bigger than his head.

After taking another sip of his second pint, Jack caught Pitch staring at him and laughed nervously. “What? Is something on my face?”

“No. It’s just weird isn’t it?”

“What is?” Jack asked, with a confused huff of a chuckle.

“I mean, isn’t it odd how we picked up each other’s bags at the airport?” Pitch mused, “And now I’m taking you out to dinner.”

“Well you owe me! I had some pretty important things in that suitcase,” Jack joked and Pitch laughed.

“So… you’d want to go out again?” Pitch asked, sounding hopeful.

Jack pretended to think about it for a second before looking at Pitch seriously, “I guess I could fit it into my diary somehow. I mean, my weeks pretty much booked with all the dates I’ve been invited to.”

“Oh, of course,” Pitch played along with a smirk.

“But, uh, yeah. I’d like that.” Jack said with a shy smile, “I’d like to go out again. With you. Sometime. For food. Or, you know. Anything.”

“Really?” He looked surprisingly happy and Jack wondered if the guy knew how perfect he was.

“Absolutely.” Jack replied without missing a beat.

Their food arrived shortly after and Jack broke down into hysterics when he saw the portion size of his meal and Pitch snorted every once in a while as he watched Jack try to tackle the fish, which, on the menu, had been appropriately been named ‘Moby Dick’.

Throughout their meal, they discussed everything and nothing; learning more and more about one another until Jack knew that this was going to be the first date of many. He found himself realising that he could see this going somewhere despite only knowing Pitch for a short while, and prayed that it did.

The date came to an end faster than Jack would have liked, but he knew that Pitch had to pick up Seraphina and they chatted jovially about how great teacher's lengthy holidays were as they finished the rest of their drinks.

Jack’s breath caught in his throat on their way out as Pitch casually took his hand, walking them both towards the car. Pitch’s hand was large and his long fingers were wound through Jack’s, drawing them into a sort of swinging motion as they walked.

They stopped before the car and Jack looked up in surprise when Pitch didn’t make a move to get into his side of the car. He looked torn for a moment before standing in front of Jack, his cheeks slightly pink.

Jack almost forgot to breathe for a second as Pitch gently cupped his cheek in the palm of his hand. He knew what was coming, but that didn’t stop him from feeling the clash of excitement and nervousness that erupted in his chest. Thoughts similar to, _I haven’t been kissed in over a year!_ and _does this mean we’re going to be officially “dating” now?_  swirled around in his head.

But then Pitch’s lips pressed against his own oh-so softly and all anxious thoughts were wiped from his mind faster than he could blink.

And then, after one quick, chaste kiss, Pitch pulled away and smiled at Jack warmly. With an equally tender smile, Jack wound his arms around Pitch’s neck and stood on his tip-toes so he could reach those lips which were tantalisingly close to his own.

Their second kiss was less of an experiment, and more of a sudden whirlwind of passion. Pitch’s lips moulded against Jack’s slowly, his smile still twisting his lips up at the sides as they created sensations Jack didn’t know kissing could make him feel. Opening his mouth under Pitch’s, Jack had to use every inch of his willpower not to whimper as Pitch’s tongue pressed in.

Pitch’s hands were cupping Jack’s jaw and the nape of his neck softly, and that paired with the sweetness of the kiss almost made it unbearably perfect.

_Oh yeah,_ Jack sighed inwardly, _I am definitely in love._


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is wayywayywayyyy overdue! but I FINALLY got around to finishing this chapter off after a bajillion years!
> 
> I’ve been on a bit of a minibreak and forgot to take my laptop with me. I should be getting back on track with my stupid number of unfinished fics now…
> 
> Can you deal with these two being so sappy? Is it TOO sappy???

Jack’s stomach churned with nerves as he pulled into Pitch’s driveway

Today was the day he was going to meet Seraphina.

Pitch had been eager for them to meet sooner but Jack wanted to see if their relationship was secure enough before he entered Seraphina’s life as her dad’s boyfriend.

Calling what they had a ‘relationship’ still made Jack come over all unnecessary. He knew he shouldn’t – they’d been dating for little over two months.

 _Time sure flies._ Jack thought, smiling despite himself.

He bit his lip as the car rolled to a stop, and gaped at the house – no, _monster_ , which was in front of him. Pushing open his door, he continued to marvel at the spectacle, wondering at how on Earth Pitch had managed to afford such a massive house on a teacher’s salary.

_I really need to get a job at this place…_

Pitch’s house was several storeys high, wisteria creeping up the front walls – almost completely obscuring one of the upstairs windows. Opposite the door, in the middle of the small (or small by the house’s standards) front garden was an ornate apple blossom tree, which stood leafless and slick with frost. Jack blushed as he thought of whether or not they’d still be together when Pitch’s garden was in full bloom.

Jack looked up in surprise when the door swung open, and his shock gave way to a strange fuzzy feeling when he spied Pitch standing on the front step, smiling widely. He opened his arms for Jack, who was just about to step into his embrace when a mop of curly black hair barrelled past Pitch and towards Jack.

The first thing Jack noticed about Seraphina was that she looks strikingly similar to her father. It was obvious that her round cheeks and somewhat soft jaw were going to give way to an impressive bone structure when she entered adolescence. She wore a green knitted dress, embroidered with little pink love hearts, and wooly grey tights.

 Seraphina grinned up at Jack, her very un-Pitch-like green eyes glittering with excitement. And then, with surprising maturity for a six year old girl, she stuck out her hand for Jack to shake.

“Hey there,” Jack said, squatting and shaking Seraphina’s hand. He hoped he didn’t sound as nervous as he felt.

“Hello! I’m Seraphina.” She chirped back, and Jack smiled at her.

“I know. I’m Jack.”

“I know.” She nodded, smiling toothily. “Daddy said that you were going to take us to the park to feed the swams. I really like swams. Daddy said that there are lots at the lake today because all of the swams like to go there in winter. I really like swams, and ducks. Ducks are nice. They come right up to you when you feed them and – ”

“Sera?” Pitch called out, slicing through Seraphina’s breathless babble. She broke off and looked up at her father, frowning.

“What?”

“Pardon. We say pardon.” Pitch chided her.

“ _Pardon_.” Seraphina rolled her eyes heavily, and took Jack’s hand, giving it an impatient tug.

“Go upstairs and change your tights, they’re all wet.” Pitch said, fatherly concern dripping from his voice. “You really need to start wearing shoes, darling.”

“Okay,” she sighed dramatically, pulling a face at Pitch once his back was turned. Jack snorted a laugh, and earned a smirk from Seraphina in return. She let go of Jack’s hand and skipped back inside.

Jack walked into the house nervously, giving Pitch a shaky smile as he slipped off his shoes in the foyer.

Pitch held out his hand to Jack, who took it, his fingers slipping through Pitch’s with an easy familiarity.

“Where the Hell have you been hiding this place?” Jack demanded as Pitch led him back through the house, until they reached a large country-style kitchen; complete with a roaring hearth and sturdy wooden table. He craned his neck to get an eyeful of the high oak ceiling. He whistled through his teeth, “I’m serious. This is one major house.”

“Parents.” Pitch said simply, and Jack nodded, trying to imagine what his parents would be like if they were insanely rich. He tried to picture himself asking them for a villa in Spain or a fancy sports car. They’d probably tell him to jog on and make his own fortune.

Jack let go of Pitch’s hand and stepped over to the kitchen’s French windows to look out at the frosty back garden. He could see stretches of empty flower beds, waiting to be refilled the coming spring. A small swing set and trampoline were situated near to the patio outside the back of the house.

“I really hope you’re not trying to overcompensate for something else…” Jack said dryly, shooting Pitch a sly grin over his shoulder.

Pitch gave a choked laugh, stifling it with his hand as Seraphina zig-zagged her way back into the kitchen. She had switched her soggy grey tights for a pair of bright red ones which clashed with the green of her dress something fearsome. She had heeded her father’s advice and was now wearing a pair of yellow bumble-bee wellington boots.

Pitch stared down at the ensemble, his expression faintly horrified. It was obvious Pitch was the one who picked out Seraphina’s clothes on a morning.

“Darling, I don’t think – ” Pitch began, and Jack bit back his smile when he realised that Pitch was about to make her go and get changed into something less… _bright_. But she just looked up at him with a determined expression, and he broke off, realising the outfit fight was going to be a lost cause.

“Let’s go! Let’s go! I wanna feed the swams!” She chanted, her little hands balling up into fists.

Jack smiled softly. He, obviously like Pitch, didn’t have it in his heart to correct her pronunciation when she was so enthusiastic about the whole thing.

“Alright!” Pitch said, his voice jovial. Jack looked at him in wonder. He felt like every time he was with Pitch, he found a new side of him he didn’t know was there – this time it was the cheerful nature which came with parenthood. “Go put your coat on and we’ll get the bread – Sera, wait!” Pitch called down the hallway, “Sera – darling – wear the pink coat! Your pink coat!”

Jack laughed when he heard Seraphina groan back at her father with a considerable lack of enthusiasm.

Pitch pulled a half-empty loaf of homemade bread from the breadbin, sliding it into a plastic carrier bag.

 _So he makes his own bread._ Jack flushed, knowing it was just a little thing – but he liked knowing the little things. Pitch looked at Jack questioningly after putting the bread into his messenger bag, taking his hand and pulling him back to the door.

“You’re amazing.” Jack blurted before he could stop himself.

“What?” Pitch looked at him, obviously startled.

“I just – you, ugh, sorry. You just are.” Jack stumbled over his words, blushing furiously. “You obviously do so much for her.”

“I do what I can.” Pitch said. He watched Seraphina yank on her pale pink raincoat grumpily, smiling a small, sad smile. “It’s what I can do to make up for… for not being with Emilia – her mother – anymore. She only gets half a family at a time.”

Jack’s face was awash with sympathy and he tightened his grip on Pitch’s hand, looking into his eyes with a hopeful smile. “Maybe… maybe not half a family anymore. I’m thinking I’ll probably be sticking around.”

Pitch’s eyes widened almost comically before his face cracked into a beatific grin, “Oh, Jack, you have no idea how good it is to hear that.”

Jack’s cheeks split with the size of his smile, and he quickly darted up on his tiptoes to peck Pitch’s cheek while Seraphina’s back was turned. It was sweet, and Jack felt something warm swell in his chest to see the peachy flush hit Pitch’s cheeks.

“I hope there’s more of where that came from,” Pitch whispered in Jack’s ear as he opened the door to let Seraphina bound over to the car.

“Save that sort of chitchat for later, mister!” Jack giggled, slapping Pitch on the back of his head as their hands untangled so they could get into the car.

“Oh, I can assure you that I will.” Pitch replied with narrowed eyes and a positively deadly smirk.

*

“Hello, hello, come here!” Seraphina shrieked delightedly, waving a slice of bread in some startled birds’ faces.

Pitch and Jack were sat on a bench facing out to the partially icy lake, watching Seraphina attempt to befriend the half terrified, half ravenous swans around the water’s edge.

“Maybe we should tell her that hitting ducks in the face with bread won’t make them like you.” Jack observed, and Pitch snorted a laugh.

“Seraphina believes that if she screams at something enough it will come around.”

“Why do I feel like she got that theory from applying it to you?” Jack laughed, hooking his arm through Pitch’s and resting his head against his shoulder. He smiled to himself, happy that he could just _do_ stuff like that because he knew Pitch wouldn’t shake him off.

“Because that’s exactly what happened.” Pitch chuckled. “She has me wrapped around her little finger.”

“I have no doubt about that.” Jack nodded. He sat up straighter and tried to unhook his arm from Pitch’s as Seraphina trotted back over to them – but Pitch wouldn’t let him, keeping a tight hold on Jack’s hand with a small knowing smile.

“Pitch, I – ” Jack looked up at him nervously, unsure if Seraphina should be seeing it. But Pitch was completely at ease, and Jack let himself relax against his boyfriend again a little.

“Jack! Aren’t you gonna feed the swams, too?” Seraphina asked with a pout, shaking the remains of her bread bag in Jack’s face.

“Sure, if you don’t mind?” He grinned, taking a slice from the bag. Pitch let him go this time as he trailed after Seraphina, who was romping around after a terrified swan, grinning widely. He laughed softly, shaking his head.

Squatting down at the water’s edge, he tore a chunk from his slice and threw it at a group of ducks, who fell upon the spoils ravenously. He sensed Seraphina behind him and smiled at her.

“How do you do that?” She gasped, pointing at the ducks who had swam over to Jack, their eyes gleaming hungrily.

“You want me to show you?” She nodded and Jack gently took some of her bread. “You have to tear it off in little bits, or else they won’t be able to eat it properly. Like this, see?” He peeled off some of the crust and tossed it into the water. “They don’t like it when you chase them, either. You’ve got to stay really, really still so they’re not scared of you.”

“Wow,” she breathed, trying it for herself. “They don’t run away!”

“See,” Jack beamed, “It’s awesome, right? You did great.”

“You think?” Seraphina toddled off to find her beloved ‘swams’, and Jack leaned back onto his ankles. He smiled after her, and turned around when he felt Pitch’s gaze on his back.

Pitch grinned at him, that strange, knowing smile which did funny things to his tummy. _When will that stop happening?_ He asked himself. He kind of wished it never would – that Pitch’s smile, his _everything_ , would keep on making his stomach knot until the day he died.

Jack held up his bread, “Not interested in feeding the duckies?”

“Well now you’ve finally _offered_ …” Pitch stood up and took the bread Jack was offering, sitting on his hunches next to him as he threw chunks of crust into the lake.

They sat in silence, feeding the ducks while still keeping a trained eye on Seraphina; who had heeded Jack’s advice and was now, instead of charging around manically, walking very slowly towards the swans with a look of fierce concentration on her face.

“I can see why you’re a primary school teacher, now.” Pitch said abruptly, “Seraphina adores you. Your students must, too.”

“Really?” Jack laughed, “It’s funny how, even if you work with kids almost every day, meeting your boyfriend’s kid can really set you on edge.”

“You have no reason to be nervous. I knew that you two would hit it off.” Pitch said softly.

Jack flushed beet red. “You have to stop saying such cute things!”

“Why?” Pitch grinned, his golden-hazel eyes glittering in amusement.

“Because – because,” Jack spluttered, “Look at me! If you carry on the way you are, I’ll just be forever blushing!”

“I like your blush,” Pitch whispered, tucking a stray lock of hair behind Jack’s pink ears. “It’s sweet.”

Jack barked a laugh and thumped at Pitch’s shoulder lightly, “Oh my God, _stop_!”

“ _Fine_ ,” Pitch drawled. Then he paused, “For now.”

With a dramatic sigh, Jack shook his head and stood up. Pitch followed suit and took Jack’s hand as they wandered back over to where Seraphina was sitting on the muddy grass.

They piled back into the car once Pitch had finally managed to drag Seraphina away from the birds with the promise of strawberry ice-cream for pudding once they got home. She slid into the back seat, crawling onto her booster chair, with a pout.

As Pitch pulled out of the carpark, Seraphina chatted incessantly about her misadventures with the pretty ‘swams’. Pitch seemed to be an expert at mmm-ing and ah-ing in all of the right places without actually listening to what his daughter had to say.

“…And, oh, oh, Jack are you having tea with us? Daddy said he was going to make me chicken nuggets! He can do that you know, my Daddy is ever so clever.”

“Seraphina – ” Pitch began warily, obviously anxious as to whether or not Jack would want to stay for dinner.  

“I’d love to.” Jack interrupted, looking at Pitch with a warm smile. “I’m very excited to see what your Daddy’s, ah, _chicken nuggets_ taste like.” He winked at Pitch, who spluttered and gasped at the audacity of Jack’s joke.

“ _Oh my God_.” He heard Pitch snicker under his breath, and Jack settled back into his seat, feeling all-too satisfied with himself.

*

Pitch padded back down the stairs after tucking Seraphina into bed and Jack leaned against the banister with a small smile, he reached out and reeled Pitch in towards him so he could press a kiss to his lips. Pitch smiled against Jack’s mouth and pulled away slightly to give Jack a serious look.

“Do you want to stay over tonight?” He asked quietly, and Jack’s lidded eyes snapped open in shock.

“I – uh, sure?” Jack squeaked.

“If you’re not comfortable with it, I can call you a – ”

“No, no, no! I’m super comfortable with it, with _you_ ,” Jack smiled. “But, I’m not sure if I’m quite ready to… cross the whole sex line in our relationship yet. I don’t wanna ruin this by moving too fast.”

“My sentiment exactly,” Pitch nodded in agreement. “I only meant that you literally stay over. It’s much too late for you to be driving around.”

“ _You_ drove to my house in the middle of the night to give me a _suitcase_.” Jack prodded Pitch’s shoulder with a smirk, “I’m not sure where you stand trying to give me lessons on safe driving!”

“Rude!” Pitch retorted, “I was obviously being a good citizen.”

Jack laughed under his breath, “Naturally.”

Pitch smirked, taking Jack’s hand. He tugged gently, pulling Jack behind him as they trekked back up the stairs and towards Pitch’s room.

Like the rest of Pitch’s house, his bedroom was huge. Between the heavy oaken chest of drawers and fancy wardrobe, the massive king-sized bed and the large bookcase, there was an extortionate amount of space left to move around in. Pitch’s room didn’t have a carpet as the majority of the rest of his house did, but gleaming mahogany floorboards.

Jack turned around to grin at his boyfriend, but his smile froze on his face when he found himself with an eyeful of Pitch’s rock solid torso.

“ _Jesus._ ” Jack choked and Pitch looked up in surprise. “Give me some warning there!”

“Oh, sorry!” Pitch replied with a laugh. He pulled a light grey t-shirt over his head, looking hilariously casual in that, his stripy pyjama bottoms and bare feet. “Did you want to borrow some night clothes?”

“Sure, thanks.” Jack managed, unable to wipe away the image of Pitch’s abs from his mind. “So… you work out. A lot. A lot, lot.”

“Yeah, a bit.” Pitch said absently as he rifled through his chest of drawers for something for Jack to wear.

“A _bit_?” Jack snorted, “You could smash freaking coconuts against your abs!”

Pitch laughed, his eyes warm and alight with amusement as he tossed a pair of pyjama bottoms at Jack. “They’re the only ones I have with a cord at the waist… Do you want a shirt, too?”

“Nah, it’s okay.” Jack said. “Your house is insanely hot, anyway.”

“Only because you never use your central heating.” Pitch pointed out.

“Hey! It’s expensive.” Jack pouted, trying to ignore the way Pitch’s eyes roamed his body as he stripped and yanked on the bottoms. “And if you keep on eye-fucking me like that, I might have to take back what I said about going slow!”

Pitch had to good grace to look embarrassed, and crawled into his bed with pink cheeks. Jack followed suit and shuffled into the middle of the bed so their noses were almost touching. Pitch smiled, and Jack smiled, and he thought this was pretty much the most perfect moment he’d ever had in his entire life. Just lying there, having a strange silent contest of who-is-going-to-give-up-first-and-kiss-the-other.

It was Jack who gave up with a small groan, throwing his leg over Pitch’s hips so he was straddling the tops of his thighs. He pushed against Pitch’s lips impatiently, flicking out his tongue to lick a hot, wet stripe against his bottom lip.

Pitch’s mouth opened under his with a small gasp and Jack cupped his jaw gently, dipping his tongue into Pitch’s mouth with a languorous slowness; wanting to draw out the intensity of their embrace. But Pitch obviously wasn’t interested in slow, languid kisses. He flipped Jack onto his back and pressed his tongue into Jack’s mouth, taking control of their intimacy with a confidence that sent Jack’s mind reeling.

His hands dragged down Jack’s back to lightly squeeze at his ass. Now _that_ made Jack choke on a desperate moan, and he gripped at Pitch’s hair, scrabbling at his scalp as Pitch continued to lick into Jack’s mouth with a ferocity Jack would never have guessed existed within him.

When Pitch’s lips left Jack’s to drag sensually against the side of his neck, Jack took the opportunity to speak, “You’ve been holding out on me.” He said, mock-angry and breathless.

“As have you,” Pitch murmured, resting his weight on his forearms so he could look at Jack’s face, which was flushed a peachy pink; his lips kiss-swollen and wet.

“You gotta work to get alla- _this_.” Jack giggled, stroking Pitch’s hair back away from his face. “Hey, Pitch?”

“Mmm?” Pitch hummed, resuming his sloppy kisses against Jack’s neck.

“I… I think I’m in love with you.” Jack said, ever-so-soft. He felt Pitch’s body tense up, and he went dizzy with nerves.

 _Oh shit, I_ knew _it, I_ knew _shouldn’t have told him. I’m such an idiot!_

But then Pitch’s body relaxed almost as soon as it had frozen, and he looked up at Jack with an arched brow. “Only _think_?”

“Oh my God, I hate you. I was ready to pour my heart out to you, but now I’m not going to if you’re gonna joke about it.”

“Aw,” Pitch chuckled, “You still won’t, even if I tell you that I love you, too?”

Jack looked at Pitch with wide eyes, and his face broke into a helpless grin. “Well… If you put it like _that_ , I might make an exception.”

Pitch rolled off of Jack and lay on his side so they were facing each other again. He reached up and carded his fingers through Jack’s hair softly.

Jack lost track of how much time they spent like that, Pitch brushing his deft fingers through Jack’s hair, murmuring sweet nothings to him, but he knew it was until he fell asleep. As he drifted off his found himself thinking that he could die that night and be the happiest man alive.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was a little (a LOT) self-indulgent. I just really like domestic environments!! they’re too cute. 
> 
> Sorry this took so long to post! (I don’t really have any substantial excuses as to why my updates are so few and far between) But now the fic is finally done!!
> 
> Thank you so much to those of you who actually stuck it out and read/commented on each update even though they were so irregular :^)

Jack pulled out a chair at the kitchen table, yawning loudly as he sat down.

Seraphina looked up at him blearily over her bowl of cereal, waving her spoon at him by way of greeting before dunking it back into the milk. A hot pot of tea was already placed in the centre of the table, a mug ready and waiting for Jack to use. He could hear Pitch bustling around in the pantry, but was far too tired to greet him.

This was how the mornings in the Pitchiner house went every day; Jack and Seraphina’s vocabulary would be reduced to grunts and Pitch, ever the morning person, would flit around the kitchen in a hurry to make three packed lunches while simultaneously attempting to coerce his daughter and boyfriend into getting ready.

Sometimes Jack still couldn’t believe that this was possible – this _domesticity._ After moving in with Pitch on just the sixth month of their relationship, Jack marvelled at how easy it was to fit into their family life.

“Sera!” Pitch barked suddenly, making both Seraphina and Jack jump out of their skins. “It’s seven fifteen, why have you not finished your breakfast?! Hurry up!”

She snorted into her orange juice in response, gulping it down hurriedly before hopping off her seat. She trudged towards the stairs lazily, dragging her slippered feet behind her as she went.

Jack yawned again and Pitch pulled out the chair opposite him, looking flustered. Jack offered him a tired smile and stretched before pouring himself a mug of tea.

“It’s a wonder you two ever make it out the door on time.” Pitch muttered, sipping at his coffee.

As usual, Pitch was fully dressed, sporting a grey jumper and black fitted trousers. Jack wondered if Pitch had ever considered wearing something that was not in the greyscale spectrum for once. He couldn’t imagine him wearing anything else, having seen him wear dark colours for so long.

“I did live on my own for a period of time.” Jack pointed out when his mouth finally felt like it would be able to function. “I’m not as useless as you make me out to be.”

“Love, if I recall, your track record for being late at the primary school is one to beat.” Pitch replied with a warm smile. “Stop kidding yourself.”

Jack couldn’t really argue with that if he wanted to. Partly because he was so tired, and partly because it might have probably, maybe, possibly been quite true, so he just shrugged instead. They sipped at their drinks in a companionable silence, the sounds of Seraphina clattering around up in her bedroom echoing down the landing to where they were sat.

After a few more minutes of letting his brain become a working organ again, Jack glanced up at the clock, groaning loudly.

“Right.” He grumbled, standing up.“I have to get dressed.”

“We’ll likely be gone when you’re _finally_ ready.” Pitch stood up with him, reaching for his wrist. Jack let himself be pulled forward into Pitch’s embrace, revelling in the feel of Pitch’s lips against his temple.

“I’ll see you tonight then.” Jack smiled, not letting go of Pitch’s waist even though he knew he really should.

It was Pitch who broke their hug, giving Jack the smile he knew made his stomach twist into knots.

“Sera is staying with Emilia for the rest of the week, so you don’t need to pick her up tonight.” Pitch reminded him and Jack nodded, reaching out and smoothing away a stray hair on Pitch’s forehead.

They exchanged a knowing look and Jack’s lips twisted up in a smirk before the clock caught his eye again and he made a surprised sound. “Right, no, I really do have to get ready. I’ll see you tonight. I love you.”

He caught Pitch’s ‘I love you, too’ as he dashed out of the kitchen and couldn’t help the tiny smile which snuck its way onto his lips to hear the words given to freely and earnestly.

*

The house was silent when Jack returned home from work, and he hung his cardigan on the end of the bannister, peering into the darkness curiously. There was a faint glow coming from underneath the kitchen door.  

“Pitch? Love, are you home?” He called out as he slipped off his shoes, padding down the hallway quietly. Pushing open the kitchen door, Jack burst into peals of nervous laughter when he saw the set-up of the dining area.

A large vanilla-scented candle was burning in the middle of the table, illuminating the boxes of Chinese takeaway which were placed on a couple of plates in an attempt at sophistry. Pitch was sat at the end of the table, looking far too proud of himself for someone who just ordered in a meal.

Pitch grinned up at Jack. “I burnt the chicken, so I bought Chinese instead.”

Taking the seat next to Pitch, Jack shook his head with a smile. “You’re ridiculous sometimes. I nearly got the gun when I saw the light – I thought someone had broken in.”

“I don’t think shooting me would be a good mark for our one month-living-together anniversary.” Pitch said.

Jack’s eyes widened and he glanced down at the table. “It’s really been a month, hasn’t it? It feels like I’ve been with you two forever.”

“Doesn’t it?” Pitch agreed. He gestured to the cartons, “I got your favourites.”

“How romantic.”

“At least I got _something_. I could have just given up and left you foodless!” Pitch said indignantly.

Jack nudged him, grinning, before reaching for one of the plates. “I am disappointed, though.”

“And why would that be?” Pitch raised his brows with an amused smile.

“Don’t people usually do something a little more extravagant when they have an empty house? I mean, this is kind of pathetic in the face of – oh, I don’t know? You could have covered yourself in sushi and let me eat it off you or something crazy like that.”

Pitch laughed, “I don’t even know where you think of these things. That would both stink out my kitchen and be terribly uncomfortable.”

Jack shrugged with a grin, tucking into the carton of fried rice. “I’m just dropping ideas in case you wanted some for Valentine’s day or something.”

“Still not going to do it.” Pitch shook his head, fumbling with his chopsticks clumsily. Jack watched him struggle for a few more minutes before taking pity on him and retrieving a spoon.

“So you really didn’t have anything else special lined up for tonight?” Jack prompted.

Pitch flushed. “I didn’t say anything like that.”

“Oh?” Jack put down his chopsticks at stared at Pitch curiously.

“Wait here.” Pitch ordered him, giving him a stern look as he left the kitchen quickly.

“What? Pitch? _Pitch_ , what about dinner?” Jack yelled, leaning back on his chair so he could watch Pitch pad up the stairs hastily.

It was a good ten minutes before Jack heard anything from Pitch except from the creaking of floorboards in the room above. Jack was buzzing with excitement – Pitch didn’t often surprise him, and it was usually a total treat when he did.

“You can come up now!” Pitch called from their bedroom loudly, his voice suspiciously calm.

Jack wasted no time in getting up the stairs, taking them three at a time in his haste. Pushing open their bedroom door carefully, Jack stumbled to a halt.

Pitch was lounging gracefully on the bed, entirely naked. Jack had a full (and much appreciated) view of his ass and the plug which was nestled snugly between his ass cheeks. His face was lightly dappled with red and he looked on at Jack with heavily lidded eyes, a mischievous curl of a smile occupying his lips.

Jack sucked in a sharp breath, staring at Pitch with wide eyes. The shock quickly gave way to delight and he grinned wickedly, stripping off his shirt as he strode towards the bed.

“I cannot believe you did this.” Jack murmured as he crawled towards Pitch.

 “You have no idea how difficult it was to sit still during dinner.” Pitch said, a little breathless.

“I don’t even know how I didn’t realise something was up. Top notch acting on your part.” Jack shook his head at his own idiocy, kicking his legs so he could escape his jeans.

“I _was_ in my high school theatre class.”

“Are you serious?” Jack’s gleeful laugh burst out of him before he had a chance to quash it down.

“Dead serious.”

“Wow. I’m not… yeah. I’m not even going to get into that.” Jack snickered, edging forward again so he could settle between Pitch’s legs. Pitch had pushed himself up onto his elbows so he could watch Jack shimmy out of his briefs, and made a hungry noise when he saw that Jack was already half hard.

Pitch reached out and ghosted his clever fingers down Jack’s shaft, smirking when Jack’s soft moan tumbled from his lips.

“Yeah, I’d rather you got into _me_ instead.” Pitch said, deadpan.

Jack’s eyes widened and he spluttered helplessly before lapsing into a fit of laughter which bordered on hysteria. “Oh my _God_ , Pitch. That wasn’t even funny.”

“It wasn’t supposed to be,” Pitch replied, his lips twitching as he held off his own laughter. “I want you to fuck me. Now.”

The rough, desperate edge to Pitch’s voice yanked Jack back into the moment and he almost whimpered at the intensity in Pitch’s eyes. He nodded quickly, shifting his position in between Pitch’s thighs so he could lave Pitch’s cock with his tongue.

Pitch’s exhale was ragged, and he slid his hands into Jack’s hair, tugging at the strands impatiently. “ _Jack_.” He ground out from behind clenched teeth when Jack pushed his tongue into the slit of Pitch’s cock before sliding his lips over the head.

Jack hummed quietly, letting his hand drift down to the plug. He tugged on the base gently, relishing the short whine that caught in Pitch’s throat before easing it out of his ass smoothly. Pitch’s breath shuddered out of him and his fingers clenched almost painfully hard in Jack’s hair.

“Jack,” Pitch murmured, worrying at his bottom lip, “For God’s sake, hurry up.”

“So impatient!” Jack grinned, but he was scrabbling for the lube and condoms which were resting on the pillow nonetheless. “You look so fucking hot like this.”

Pitch flushed, letting his hands slip out from Jack’s hair and down to the taut skin of his abdomen as Jack sat back on his ankles while he rolled on the condom. He could feel Pitch’s hungry gaze on him as he slicked himself up; groaning shortly at the feel of the lukewarm lube on his cock, revelling in the fact it would be _so_ much hotter inside Pitch.

Hooking Pitch’s legs over his shoulders, Jack leaned down to kiss Pitch roughly as he lined himself up. Pitch licked at Jack’s tongue hungrily, and Jack moaned as Pitch sunk his teeth into his bottom lip at the same time as the head of him sank into the slick heat of Pitch’s ass.

“ _Fuck_.” Jack choked out, pressing soft, intermitted kisses across Pitch’s jaw.

Pitch moaned loudly, his nails raking down Jack’s back as he ground his ass down on Jack’s cock. It was at that moment that Jack knew he wasn’t going to last nearly as long as he wanted to – not when it had been so long since he’d been the one doing the fucking, and definitely not when Pitch pushed back into his thrusts with little swivels of his hips, creating a delicious friction which made Jack whimper helplessly.

Gripping hard at Pitch’s thighs, Jack pulled back and snapped his hips forward and they both groaned at the same time. Jack angled his hips carefully on his next few thrusts, seeking. His voice broke on a harsh cry when Pitch tightened around him.

“Jack, _fuck, there_!” Pitch panted and Jack rolled his hips again, delighting in how tight Pitch was as he thrust back into him again.

The pace Jack set after that was fast and desperate, and it took his full concentration to keep the angle right – to make sure that he wasn’t going to be the only one coming way too early today. He thrust into Pitch hard, his brows pulled tight together as the sensations built up on top of one another.

Pitch wrapped his arms around Jack’s neck and tilted his head up. Jack met him halfway, their lips crashing together almost painfully. There was no care for finesse in the kiss – only the desperation for contact as Jack drove his hips deeper.

“Pitch, P – _Pitch_ – fuck, I’m –” Jack whimpered against Pitch’s mouth.

“Do it,” Pitch nodded, cupping Jack’s face gently, “ _Come_.”

He didn’t to be told twice – Jack’s throat was stripped as he came with a hoarse cry, fucking himself into Pitch through his orgasm before pressing himself in deep. Pitch gasped and drew Jack back down into a kiss. It was tired and wet and Jack didn’t bother hiding the small, fragile noises which escaped him as Pitch’s tongue traced the edges of his teeth.

It took a couple of minutes for Jack to come back down, and when he did he wasted no time in slipping out of Pitch and ducking his head down to his still-hard cock, which was flushed and slick with precome.

With no preamble, Jack slid his mouth over the head of Pitch’s cock, bobbing his head down over what he could take and pumping his hand at the base. Pitch fell back against the bed, his thighs quivering as Jack quickly undid him, desperate for him to be as sated as Jack felt.

“ _God_!” Pitch’s wrecked shout marked his orgasm quite clearly and Jack pressed his tongue up against the bottom of Pitch’s shaft, staying still as Pitch spilled onto his tongue.

Jack sucked hard on Pitch’s cock as he drew himself upright, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand with a satisfied grin.

“Come here,” Pitch murmured, pulling Jack into him.

Resting his head on Pitch’s shoulder, Jack looked up at him tiredly. “I love you.”

“I know,” Pitch said softly, closing his eyes with a small smile. “I love you, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ask and ye shall receive. I wrote porn for you guys. For the first time. It was so hard (pun intended) and I want to cry.

**Author's Note:**

> this au was calling me and it was quick and easy to write sooo yeah this happened  
> I'll probably update it and the tags/rating soon because I'm a sucker for these romcom type scenarios, and Jack and Pitch taken completely out of context and character seems to be my thing...


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